


infinite tonight

by Fyrelass



Series: you're the star i'll find [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyrelass/pseuds/Fyrelass
Summary: After a full year of pining and uncertainty, dancing around each other and trying to play it safe, Elliott and Katrionel have finally decided to take their first steps forward together. New relationships take time and energy, though, and each bring their own baggage and goals to the table: Katrionel recalls the pain of an old relationship and fears stagnation — for both her and her farm. Meanwhile, Elliott is consumed by the worry he’s not good enough for her and distracted by the completion of his debut novel, with all its challenges and triumphs.It's the start of a brand new year, which brings both new opportunities and endless possibilities -- but will their newfound status as a couple survive?[sequel to more than a drop in the sea]
Relationships: Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Player (Stardew Valley), Maru/Penny (Stardew Valley)
Series: you're the star i'll find [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819192
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. Spring

Elliott rode the high of New Years’ Eve for days. It sustained him during the first week of Spring, when Katrionel was busy setting up her farm for the coming season and year beyond. “It’s worse than I thought,” she’d told him during a chance encounter at Pierre’s shop, him doing his bi-weekly shopping, her picking up more seeds to sow. Her shoulders were slumped, exhaustion clear in her eyes as she leaned against a shelf. “The snow melted and revealed a whole host of fallen limbs and rocks to clear, not to mention the weeds…”

He understood, he did, but as the first week of Spring drew to a close, he found himself missing her more and more. He made sure to go out at least once each day, to visit friends in the valley or even just to enjoy the weather — balmy, though the sea breeze was still chilly. It just wasn’t the same without her, he thought.

On Friday evening, just as he was weighing the pros and cons of going to the Saloon for dinner versus eating in, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he called absently, shuffling the second edit of his novel around on his desk in preparation to depart.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Elliott’s head flew up upon hearing the familiar teasing tone. “Katrionel!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet so hastily he nearly knocked his chair over. “How wonderful to see you again.”

She stood in the doorway, illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun behind her. Her hair shone nearly gold because of it, appearing to give her a crown. Her eyes gleamed as she stepped inside, a beaming smile brightening her entire posture. She was beautiful, he thought, as he often did.

He opened his arms without a second thought; she stepped into them with a weary sigh, sinking into the hug he offered. “I missed you,” she mumbled into his shoulder, and his heart melted a bit. 

“I missed you quite a lot as well.” He threaded fingers through her hair, ignoring the grease and grime, working through one of the many tangled knots. She sighed in soft pleasure. “How has your week gone?”

“It’s gone.” Her sigh this time was considerably more weary. “I finally managed to get things on something of a schedule. Now I just have to wait for my first harvest, which should be… tomorrow.”

“Very busy,” he murmured. “You should be proud of yourself. Well, I was considering going to the Saloon for dinner, if you’d like to join…?”

“Not cooking sounds amazing.” She buried her face a little further into his shoulder. It nearly muffled her next words. “I’m positively filthy, though…”

“I don’t mind. No one else will either.”

She hummed softly. They stood like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms and drinking in their presence, until Katrionel straightened. “I do have something for you, though.”

“Oh?” He drew away a touch. “I haven’t anything to give in return.”

“It’s not quite a reciprocal gift,” she said, and slipped out of his arms. With a tiny smile to him, she stepped to his desk and slung her backpack off her shoulders. She dug through it, seemingly searching for something. “Here we are.”

But she didn’t take it out right away. Instead she took a moment and a deep breath. There was no telling what such a reaction could mean; Elliott couldn’t even begin to guess what she wanted to give him.

So when she pulled a bouquet from the depths of her bag and offered it to him, he was left poleaxed.

“I made this,” she said, determined and not quite meeting his eyes. Instead she focused on the flowers in the bouquet. “For you. For… us.”

“Katrionel,” he breathed, staring at the bouquet in stunned silence. “This is…”

“I know it’s tradition here to give a bouquet to the person you’re interested in,” she forged on. “And I just thought… y’know, if we’re going to test this… thing between us out…”

She trailed off, color high in her cheeks as she ducked her head. 

“Katrionel.”

She looked up again at her name.

“There is nothing that would delight me more than being your beau.”

“You’re so old-fashioned sometimes,” she said, but the way her lips twitched gave away the smile she suppressed. She extended the bouquet to him. With a hand that shook just a bit, he accepted it, turned it over in his hands. 

“You made this?” he asked, trying to identify the flowers within the bouquet.

“Of course.” She sounded offended, but in a joking fashion. “Avoid announcing my intentions to the entire town? What do you take me for?”

He laughed at that, still trying to determine each flower. A hand appeared in his field of view, dirt still tucked around the edges of well-kept nails, to touch each gently. “Fairy rose, blue jazz, some sweet pea and ferns as well.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t most of those from other seasons?”

She smiled when he looked up at her. “They are, but Gran Evelyn gave me directions for crafting her special growing pots. I just used some of last year’s seeds.”

“Very astute of you.” Elliott breathed in the scent of the bouquet, floral and fragrant as expected. “Shall I put this in some water and then we can depart for dinner?”

“Sounds wonderful.” Katrionel smiled at him again, that beaming smile that made her eyes sparkle.

He took a moment to find a glass, fill it with water, and trim the stems to better fit. His heart skipped a beat once more as he realized just what this meant. They were dating, officially, and it felt like his heart may burst in his chest with joy.

He took the opportunity, upon returning to the main room of his tiny cabin with the vase in hand, to wrap his arms around her again. “What’s brought this on?” Katrionel asked, laughing a little even as she returned the hug.

“Nothing,” he said with a smile. “I just wanted to hug you, and now I don’t require an excuse to do it.”

She buried his face in his shoulder and giggled. “You’re so cheesy.”

“So I’ve been told. Shall we?” — offering her his arm as he drew away and placed the vase on his writing desk.

She looped hers through his like a grand lady and rested her hand on his forearm. A side glance and an arched eyebrow, smile twitching at the corner of her lips, was his answer.

“We shall.”

* * *

Elliott always had a very bad habit of allowing time to slip away from him. Days occupied with editing during the day and seeing or visiting Katrionel at night, spring simply seemed to disappear. The Egg Festival came and went without his notice; Katrionel confessed she’d missed it as well. Her crop of cauliflower had finally come in and she’d only remembered the date late that evening, as she passed through town on her way to his cabin and noticed the cleanup.

The Flower Dance, though… she hummed to herself as she made tea in his kitchen, half-danced across the wooden floor. Once, when she thought he wasn’t looking, she’d done a spin, holding out imaginary skirts. 

So it was safe to say she was excited for the Flower Dance.

“Do you know the dances we use?” he asked one day, out of the blue, after hearing the rhythmic tapping of Katrionel’s feet once again.

“Hm?” Her voice carried from the kitchen, only to grow louder as she appeared in the doorway. “What?” 

He repeated the question. There was a moment of silence, prompting him to look over at her. She appeared startled, taken aback almost. “Have I really been that obvious?” she asked after a pause, a wry smile breaking across her face. 

“A touch.” He sighed. “I confess, I have regretted not asking you to dance last year since the moment I failed to ask.”

“Well, you’ll have a chance to remedy that.” She smiled at him, walking closer to lean against the table at his side. Elliott pushed his chair back to look up at her face without straining his neck and back. “The dance is in three days, after all.”

He felt his eyebrows rise and made no move to stop them. “That soon?”

Her laughter filled the room. She reached out to squeeze his shoulder as she pushed off the table and returned to the kitchen. “Yes, and we’ve got to work on your time management!” she called back. “I’m planning to run a load of laundry tomorrow — do you need your outfit washed?”

“More than likely,” he called back. “Let me find it. And you never answered my original question.”

She gave a weary sigh. “No, I don’t. I tried to learn last year, but I couldn’t quite pick it up without a partner.”

He needed a break anyways. Elliott pushed his chair back and stood with a groan, stretching his stiff back out. “All right, then. Come here and let’s see what I remember.”

Katrionel poked her head around the door frame, blinking. “What?”

For an answer, he offered her both hands. “I’m not sure I remember all the steps,” he said with a wry smile. “Leah typically has to guide me through it. But I can try to teach you.” 

There was the very briefest of hesitations, before she stepped forwards and took one of his hands. “All right. Let’s see it, then.”

“Do you have some music we can use? Something that’s three-four time.”

“I can probably find something.”

Sure enough, she cued up a song he didn’t recognize — though their music tastes were quite different, so it wasn’t surprising — and stepped forward to stand in front of him, so close he only had to look down to be right in her face. 

He didn’t take the bait, only arched an eyebrow, even though he could smell her perfume filling the air around them. “Not quite so close, I’m afraid,” he said, gently grasping her arms to maneuver them backward. “This is less of a fun dance and more formal, bordering on a courtship dance. You dance with most of the other side, but primarily with the partner across from you.”

“That explains some of the pairings,” she muttered under her breath. He hummed, but didn’t reply. Instead, he bowed to her, prompting an immediate curtsy. “Step one down,” she said impishly, prompting laughter. 

“Don’t be quite so hasty. There’s plenty left to go.” He closed his eyes momentarily, speaking as he did so. “The men always move first, to stand at the midpoint between their line and the women’s line.”

It was a type of mixer or line dance, traditional to the valley, from what he’d been told. The women moved to meet the men, then crossed forearms at head height and rotated around in a single circle for four 3-counts, which returned them to their starting points. Small bobbing steps brought them to the partner to their left or right, and that was precisely where Elliott lost the exact steps.

“I think this is it…?” He trailed off with a frown, trying to recall the next steps. She obediently followed as he guided her in another circle, but that didn’t feel right. “No…”

“Was it this?” And it was her turn to guide him in a step that felt rather familiar. 

He drew away, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Did you really not know how to dance this?”

Her smile was maybe a touch mischievous. “So maybe Grandpa taught me one year, when I insisted I wanted to learn.” 

“And here you’ve been letting me muddle about?” 

“You’re doing really well-”

He cut her off with a spin, one she followed instinctively, bursting into laughter. When she spun back in, he didn’t stop her, allowing her to crash into his chest, still laughing.

“Despicable behavior, Miss Sherman,” he told her, trying and failing to conceal his own grin. “Allowing me to act a fool like this-”

“You did fine,” she said, waving one hand as if to physically dismissive the concern. “And no one will care if you mess it up anyways. It’s an old tradition anyways, I don’t know why Lewis insists on continuing it.”

“Sometimes traditions are important.” He shrugged a little, swaying in place since the music hadn’t quite ended. “They teach us about where we’ve come from, remind us of our roots.”

She nestled a little closer, resting her head on his shoulder and tucking her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her breath against his skin, sending goosebumps over his entire body. They swayed in place until the song finally faded out.

“I think I like this dancing a lot more,” Katrionel whispered. Elliott didn’t disagree one bit.

* * *

He sent his Spring Dance outfit home with her with profuse thanks and yet another tight hug — he sincerely doubted there would ever come a day he did not adore the feeling of hugging her. The novelty had yet to wear off. Home she went, and he fell into bed for a sleep without dreams.

Katrionel returned his outfit the day before the dance, freshly washed and even ironed. “I have to get more seeds, so I can’t stay,” she told him, brushing a messy, frizzy strand of hair out of her face. “But I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget to drop that off.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Elliott said gratefully, inspecting the shirt cuffs. It appeared even nicer than the day he’d purchased it. “Shall I see you tomorrow, then? I can meet you at your farm and we can walk over together.”

“How about we meet at the southern entrance to the farm? It’ll be on the way for both of us.” 

“Sounds perfect.” He gave her a theatrical bow to make her laugh, the now-familiar but never-old sound filling his cabin.

And so it was that he found himself waiting just west of Marnie’s farm in the bright, clear morning, watching the sun slowly rise over the valley as he waited for Katrionel to arrive. A steady stream of townsfolk passed by further south, following the river from town to the temporary event grounds, within the depths of the Cindersap Forest overlooking the Gem Sea. His palms were sweating despite the mild breeze and gentle sunshine. It was ridiculous — she’d known him for a full year, had asked him to go out with her, and yet-

“Oh, I hope you haven’t had to wait too long!”

“No, of course not.” 

Elliott turned to see her and sighed in quiet admiration. Her hair was caught up and back into two braids to tug hair away from her face, held in place at the back by a pink fairy rose. It contrasted beautifully with her dress, the same one she’d worn last year: knee length, a crisp white cotton with vertical blue pinstripes. She positively beamed at him as she bounced to a stop in front of him. “Ready to go?” 

“Indeed.” He offered her his arm with a gentleman’s bow. She returned with an elegant curtsy. “May I say — you look stunning, dear heart.”

Her cheeks flushed pink as she took his arm and stepped tight to his side. “You flatterer.”

“I wouldn’t say it were it not the truth.”

They walked south, joining the last few stragglers heading to the dance grounds. Shane was among them, trying to straighten his tie with a grimace. Katrionel raised a hand to greet him, which he nodded in return, but neither said a word to the other. Elliott got the feeling that worked perfectly fine for the two of them.

Attention turned to them as they entered the grounds, though — thankfully — it didn’t stay on them long. Katrionel leaned a little closer, lifting her chin to murmur in his ear, “I’m going to make the rounds; do you want to come with me or go see Leah?”

Leah herself stood close to the edge of the river, watching them with a distinct gleam in her eyes. He almost found himself dreading any approaching conversation, but smiled down at Katrionel. “Enjoy yourself, dearest. You know where I’ll be when the dance begins.”

She squeezed his arm tighter for just a moment, then released and stepped away. Her fingers trailed down his arm, tangled with his own, and held on for so long their arms were tugged almost flat out before she released. He watched her go for a moment longer, heart giving what could only be described as a lovesick thud within his chest. 

But he forced himself onward and moved south to see his oldest friend in the valley. Leah still observed him, an expression that could only be described as the cat that got the cream affixed to her face.

“Do us both a favor and kindly don’t mention it,” he said with a weary sigh. 

“Say something? About what? I wasn’t going to say anything.” Her smirk had only gotten more smug. “How’re things with your girlfriend?”

It was a bolt from the blue to realize that’s what Katrionel was now, in modern terms — his girlfriend. He had to duck his head to hide a smile, not that Leah missed it. She elbowed him hard, sending him stumbling a bit. “You’re such a sap!”

“I said nothing, may I remind you.”

“No, but you wrote it out on your face like that book of yours.” She grinned at him. “It’s good to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Happy.”

Their conversation turned to his novel and her artwork, playing catchup for the weeks they hadn’t been able to speak. Elliott found himself absently glancing around for Katrionel, seeking out her warm presence at random intervals. She floated around the field, speaking to just about everyone once. Her longest pause was standing beside Maru.

After his third glance showed Katrionel still standing beside the younger woman, a frown on her face, he was close to going to investigate when Leah caught his arm. “Give her some space,” she chided. “No girl likes a clingy boyfriend.”

Katrionel least of all. He recalled the story she’d told him in confidence at the Night Market last winter with a near-shiver. One last glance, and he forced himself to turn away. She would be there later, he reminded himself.

After all, he owed her a dance.

It felt like no time at all had passed when Mayor Lewis shouted for the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to begin making their way to the center of the field. “My apologies, but I’m afraid I won’t be dancing with you this year,” Elliott told Leah.

“No apology needed. I get to go drink some more of that punch!” She raised her near-empty glass in a toast and parted with him to return to the buffet table. 

He turned to find his promised dance partner. Katrionel still stood by Maru, who was now eying the field with a wary gaze. He managed to pick up just the tail end of her sentence when he grew close enough to hear: “-don’t take a chance.” 

“Is everything all right?” he asked as he stopped in front of the two of them.

“Just a difficult decision to make.” Katrionel gave him a quick smile, one that didn’t quite hide the worry lurking in her eyes. Her gaze flicked from him, to Maru, then across the field and back to him. A casual glance over his shoulder showed Penny standing near her mother, looking out over the crashing waves on the Gem Sea with a wistful expression.

“Ah.” He thought he understood a little more. “Would you regret not making that choice for the rest of your life if you didn’t do so now?”

Both women stared at him, Maru startled, Katrionel thoughtful. Then Maru’s shoulders sagged and she looked away. “I think I probably would,” she admitted.

“Then go for it,” Katrionel advised, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder, followed by a firm push towards the opposite side of the field.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Maru walk across the grass with a nervous, hesitant pace. Halfway across, she glanced back at them. Elliott smiled encouragingly at her; Katrionel brought her free hand up in a sweeping motion that lifted and set her chin. Maru nodded back to them once. 

They watched her cover the last bit of distance and stop in front of Penny. Whatever she said made Penny straighten in surprise. 

A hand threaded with his. He took it and squeezed back as they watched the little silent drama unfold across the field.

Then a hesitant smile broke across Penny’s face, and Maru’s shoulders sagged. Katrionel released a great, weary sigh of relief. Elliott was surprised to find himself joining her.

He released her hand and stepped away a pace. Turning, he offered the hand she’d just released with a bow.

“May I have the honor of this dance with you, Miss Katrionel?”

He looked up just enough to see her broad smile.

“Why, Mister Elliott, I thought you’d never ask.” The hand she laid in his was positively dainty, and they glided out to join the couples lining up opposite each other. Penny and Maru were near the center, opposite each other, and Katrionel took a place at Penny’s side with a warm smile.

There was a brief hubbub, as dance partners had to be reassigned. Maru and Penny stood opposite each other, not quite meeting each other’s eyes as they both blushed heavily. Sam, who usually danced with Penny, eased the uncertainty by racing over to grab Jodi’s hand and pull her out onto the field. Harvey, after some slight hesitation, retreated from the line. He chose to stand beside Leah, who was at least two cups into the punch by that point.

The music started; the dance began. Elliott kept a subtle eye on Maru to one side of him, as much as she studied the way Shane danced beyond her. It certainly wasn’t the smoothest he’d ever danced, but as he and Katrionel swirled around each other in a whirlwind of pale blue, her eyes shining with glee, he couldn’t say he was disappointed — not one bit.

* * *

The Flower Dance took up most of the day, music an ever-present part of the event as they ate and drank from the bountiful feast, talked with their fellow townsfolk, and occasionally danced together. The other dances weren’t nearly so structured as the opening traditional dance, thankfully. It left openings for the two of them to gossip softly to each other, exchanging tidbits they’d picked up on their rounds visiting both friends and acquaintances. 

The talk of the town, of course, was Maru and Penny. Elliott captured her for another dance, drawing her away from a conversation with Jodi and Caroline. She left them with a laugh and wave, taking his hands in both of hers and stepping in while he drew her close. “Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, as the instrumental music sent them waltzing across the grass dance floor. 

“Very much so.” Katrionel’s eyes sparkled as she added, “And we’re not even the talk of the Dance!”

“Disappointed?”

“Not in the least.” She laughed as he took the opportunity to spin her out and back in. “I hoped she’d take the plunge. Anyone with eyes could tell she was crushing hard.”

Elliott, who had not noticed Maru’s apparently obvious crush on Penny, cleared his throat. Katrionel winked at him. “The general sentiment is positive, though?”

“So far.” He caught a flash of worry as she darted a look over his shoulder. Their next spin showed him who she’d been looking at: Pam, stationed next to the punch bowl and deep in her cups. “No idea what she thinks.”

“Should we be concerned?”

She deliberated as he led her in another square. “Not yet,” she said. Her jaw set for just a moment before she let out a long, slow breath. “If it goes wrong, though… well. Penny will always have a safe harbor at the farm.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment.” He gave her a fond smile, one that had her cheeks flushing red for some reason.

Then the song drew to a close and they separated once more, Elliott to gather refreshment for his parched throat and Katrionel to do… something. He wasn’t sure precisely what. 

Not that it mattered much; the night was drawing in, fireflies dancing at the edge of the forest. The Flower Dance was wrapping up for another year, as townsfolk began to collect food and collapse tables and chairs to be taken back to storage at the Saloon. He assisted in any way he could until people started the slow trickle back to town. Only then did he turn in a slow circle, searching for his significant other.

He didn’t have to look far. She was handing over money to Pierre, balancing a flat of plants on one arm. She turned and caught his eye as the shopkeeper tucked the coins away, giving him a beaming smile. He hurried to catch up with her.

“Look, I got strawberry plants!” She thrust them under his nose, nearly causing him to get dirt on his nose before he backpedaled. “Aren’t they cute?!”

“Positively lovely,” he said, inspecting the plants from a more reasonable distance. “Though — isn’t it rather late in the season for those?”

“Oh, it is,” she said conversationally, turning towards the exit back to town. “But I can make plant pots, remember? I can grow these indoors and they’ll produce for as long as I keep them fed and watered.”

“Useful,” he admitted. 

She frowned. “But space-consuming. Hm… maybe I can get Robin to build me a shed to keep them in…” 

She trailed off into silence, mulling the quandary over in her mind as they carefully crossed the rickety, temporary bridge into the Cindersap Forest. He offered her a hand to support her crossing; she took it and didn’t let go once back on solid ground. Together they walked, still in silence, back towards their every-day reality.

“Are you all right?” he asked, as they approached the southern entrance to her farm and she still hadn’t spoken a word. 

“Hm? Oh, yes. Just…” Katrionel trailed off with a soft sigh. “I don’t really want today to end.”

He squeezed her hand gently. “Neither do I.”

Her laughter was short-lived. At the entrance to her farm, they both stopped at some unspoken signal. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. Maybe? I want to get the strawberry plants in pots as soon as I can, so I could be pretty busy…”

“I was planning to edit most of the day,” he admitted. “But… well, if you get the chance to come by, or… you don’t mind me visiting…?”

“Of course not.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You should know by now, Sherman Farm is always open to you.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand tight. A thought occurred to him, as she didn’t seem to want to let go any more than he did. “What’s your favorite song right now?”

“Hm?” Uncertainty, warring with confusion. “Why?”

“Just queue it up.” He took the strawberry plants from her hand gently, waiting as she pulled her phone out and tapped on it a bit. It wasn’t long before unfamiliar music began to play in the air around them. “Now, Miss Sherman-” He sketched an over-the-top bow, offering her one hand. “Might I have the honor of the last dance?”

Her laughter made him smile as she took his hand. The two of them danced together, beneath the star-strewn sky, until the music finally faded out.


	2. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer's dread heat, exciting news, and an eventful morning.

Elliott woke the first day of summer drenched in sweat. He sat up in bed, bleary-eyed as he blinked at his cabin. 

It took him a moment to realize something was wrong. His cabin was dead quiet, not a single sound besides his own breathing. The heat was positively oppressive.

All at once, it clicked: his window-mounted air conditioner wasn’t working.

“Oh, heavens.” He groaned aloud as he rolled out of bed and stumbled to the window to inspect the unit. It had come with the cabin, which meant it was likely older than himself. Lewis had assured him when he moved in that it was perfectly sufficient for the cabin. Now he wondered if he should’ve insisted on a replacement.

“Ugh.” He unplugged the unit from the wall and inspected the window keeping it in place. It was cemented to the unit; it appeared someone had painted the window and the unit all at once. There would be no getting it out of there on his own.

Instead he opened all the other windows, allowing the sea breeze into the cabin. A draft ruffled the pages of his novel, stacked haphazardly on his writing desk. He hastily set an empty coffee mug on top of it. Cabin now aired out, it was tolerable, if not comfortable… until a gust of wind blew an enormous amount of sand in.

In the midst of him attempting to sweep the miniature beach back out his front door, crunching footsteps on the sand caught his attention. “Elliott?” Katrionel called, and he didn’t bother trying to stop the beaming, broad smile that broke across his face at the sound of her voice.

She accepted his hug swiftly, but soon drew away again. “Goodness — what’s going on?”

“My air conditioner went out,” he said with a weary sigh. “I was trying to air the cottage out, but… well.” He gestured to his windblown personal effects, the steadily growing desert in the floorboards, his sweat-soaked shirt.

“Yikes.” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning in a slow circle in the center of his living space. “This is… bad.” 

“Perhaps an understatement.” She snorted softly at the wry tone. “I suppose I’ll be getting no work done until this is repaired… and I still need to go alert the mayor so he can fix that-” with a gesture at the offending unit.

“Can I take a look?” 

“Be my guest.”

He gathered a hasty breakfast together while she inspected the air conditioner, stomach reminding him he had yet to eat. Her frown grew deeper and more pronounced the longer she looked it over, eventually pulling a panel off to inspect the insides. When she did, her eyebrows shot up. “Well, there’s your problem.”

“What?”

She straightened, stretched her back out with a pop. “The salt air off the ocean’s corroded everything inside this thing. It’s a total write-off, can’t be fixed. You’ll need a full replacement.”

His shoulders sagged. “You mean I’ll have to live and work here without air conditioning in the heat of the summer?”

“I didn’t say that.” She swatted his shoulder gently as she walked past. “Get your stuff together. My farmhouse is unoccupied during the day, and the AC works. You can just work there.”

“Are you cer-”

“Of course I’m certain.” She reached up to wipe her forehead with the back of one hand. “Ugh, this is disgusting. C’mon. I was going to head straight home anyways after visiting you.”

He wasted little time in gathering his novel and editing supplies to follow her out the door. It was dismally hot outside as well, but at least the breeze was stronger and brought more cool air with it. Katrionel tilted her head back to the sunshine. “I wish it wasn’t so dang hot. This would’ve been gorgeous weather just a week ago.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He gave a theatrical sigh, head thrown all the way back to stare at the brilliant blue summer sky. “Spring’s genteel calm gave way to summer’s dreadful heat, leaving nothing but a wistful memory in its wake…”

“I don’t know that it’s quite that bad.” She was laughing, though, which had been his ultimate goal. 

It wasn’t too long before they arrived at the farmhouse, having traversed a town gone positively dead in the burgeoning summer heat. “Want to come in for something cool to drink before I have to head out for watering?” she asked. “I think I have some lemonade stored away somewhere…”

“That sounds wonderful,” Elliott said with feeling, still drenched in sweat and near panting from the brutal heat. “You’re an angel.”

“Not quite,” she said with an embarrassed flush. “Come in.”

He kept from protesting at the brushed-off compliment, but certainly still felt his statement applied to the beautiful woman he was lucky enough to call his girlfriend.

* * *

The first week of the season took on a routine from there: Elliott still spent his nights at his cabin by the sea for appearance’s sake, but spent his every waking minute at Katrionel’s farm. It was worryingly easy to adjust to, as they waited for the replacement AC unit to arrive. He’d begun to worry he’d not be able to adjust back. 

That Friday started off as usual; Elliott rose early, dressed, and gathered his manuscript for further work at Katrionel’s farmstead. Cabin door locked, he checked his mailbox. There were a few letters sticking out the front flap. He gathered them up and tucked them into his shoulder bag, resolving to investigate later as he set out across town.

The town was just beginning to stir to life as he crossed the stone bridge across the river. Evelyn was already awake, carefully watering the flowerbeds around the plaza. He gave a cheery wave, not breaking stride. The elderly woman was lovely, but he’d discovered she was a lengthy conversationalist, given any opportunity. Time was something he was rather short on, as he pulled his pocketwatch from his pants pocket and checked the hour. 

Maru swept the front steps of the clinic, shielding her face from the morning sun as she looked up. “Hey, Elliott!” she called. “You’re up early!”

“So are you,” he replied, neatly sidestepping the implied question of ‘why’. People knew he’d spent time at Katrionel’s farm this week, but he’d prefer to avoid them knowing just how much. “I’m afraid I haven’t time to chat this morning — have a good day, Maru.”

She grinned and waved him on. He was more than happy to proceed onto the road to Sherman Farm.

He passed the small clearing beside the highway, where the bus sat alone, waiting for passengers that rarely came. Pam leaned against the bus’ side, smoking a cigarette. Elliott hurried past, anxious not to catch her gaze. He was almost there, anyways: he could see the familiar sign declaring the boundary to Sherman Farm, and hear a familiar voice speaking further beyond the gates.

“On you get, now, before the sun gets too high!”

Barking backed her words, and he laughed to himself. For all she weighed less than 25 pounds, Winnie was a force to be reckoned with when it came to herding the livestock.

“Hello!” he called as he stepped onto the farm, peering out over the fields. The barn down the hill was where he directed his gaze first: sure enough, he could see a familiar figure herding two cows out into the fields.

“Good morning!” she shouted, punctuated by even more barking as Winnie raced up the stairs to greet him. “Head in — I’ll be up in a minute!” 

Elliott crouched to sweep Winnie up, greeting her with a warm smile and ear scritches. She returned the favor by attempting to lick his face clean. “No, no — that’s quite enough of that.” He pushed her face away, to which she rested her chin on his arm with a huff.

He regained her good graces by giving her a treat once he entered the house. The coffee pot was empty — he started that while he waited for Katrionel to come inside. A few minutes later, while he investigated the contents of her fridge in a search for bacon, the door opened. “Yoba, they really don’t want to go outside today,” Katrionel said, half-breathless. He extricated himself from the fridge and turned to look as she yanked her boots off, hopping on first one foot, then the other. “It’s a nice day, I have no idea what’s gotten into them. Maybe there’s a storm coming in?”

“Either that or they’re simply stubborn.”

She laughed, finally shoe-less, and bounced towards the kitchen. “I have eggs!” she said, holding them up like a trophy. “And a little bit of milk. Becky still isn’t giving much.”

“Give it time.” Elliott gestured to the coffee maker, two mugs arranged in front of the pot side-by-side. “Yours is ready when the coffee finishes brewing.”

“You’re wonderful,” she said with feeling, stepping up to the kitchen sink to scrub her hands up to the elbow. “Give me a minute and I’ll get started on scrambling some eggs.”

“Did you get bacon at the store yesterday?” he asked as she stepped away again, producing a frying pan from the depths of one of her many cabinets.

“Crap — no, I forgot. Sorry.” She dropped a pat of butter in the pan and set it to heat on the stove. “Uh, I think I’ve got some cheese, ham, and potatoes, if you want an omelet instead?”

“That sounds wonderful. I can pick some up later today?”

They fell into the easy back-and-forth that had brightened his mornings for the past week. He poured the coffee and prepped both mugs, stirred them and offered her mug to her (the ‘Feeling Corgeous’ mug she loved). She took it, spatula in her other hand, and sipped it. “Wonderful as always. Thank you, dear.”

Breakfast prepared and coffee brewed, they moved to sit at the table. Winnie sat down at Elliott’s side, staring up at him with the biggest, brownest eyes he’d seen. Now well-accustomed to her attempts to weasel treats out of him, he ignored her with only a stern “no”.

His mail lay on the table beside his place setting where he’d left it; he picked it up, beginning to sort through it piece by piece. Confirmation his rent for the season had gone through, yet another rejection letter, spam mail (somehow)…

One letter stood out to him, near the bottom of the pile: a cream envelope, with a return address in Zuzu City. He frowned, carefully opening the envelope and extracting the letter within. He skimmed the page as he brought a forkful of omelet to his mouth, only for it to stop halfway.

Down the fork went. He stared at the letter, read the crisp inked words again. It still hadn’t fully registering, sinking in slow as honey on toast.

“Elliott?” Katrionel asked, clearly concerned. Though she sat across the table from him, the words took time to filter in, like he was hearing them from beneath ocean waves.

“They accepted my novel,” he whispered.

The clatter of silverware against a plate. “What?!”

“They accepted my novel,” he repeated, louder this time and half-rising from his seat. “Mister Whitlock, we are pleased to offer you a publishing deal through our publishing house-”

He was cut off by a shriek of glee, as Katrionel threw herself around the table to hug him tight. He met her halfway, letter fluttering to the table as he caught her and lifted her off the ground. Two steps freed him from the confines of the breakfast area, and he spun her around and around, laughing like a giddy schoolboy. “You did it!” she squealed as Winnie danced around their feet, barking in excitement. “You did it, you’re going to be published-”

He set her down again, still riding the high of the news. Without any conscious thought to the matter, his hands moved from her waist to cradle her face and pull her in for a kiss. 

It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his actions, but once he did, he froze in place. 

Yoba, what was he doing-  
His train of thought was interrupted as Katrionel reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself closer, deepening the kiss further. 

It felt like an infinity wrapped in a microsecond. She was warm, smelled faintly of her favorite perfume Elliott still couldn’t quite place. Her lips were soft against his, the taste of coffee lingering on them, and her fingers threaded up into his hair to pull him even closer. 

He broke the kiss first, drawing away just a few inches to look down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, brilliant blue-purple glittering in the early morning light. 

“Wow,” he murmured, and she giggled, just between them. Not very eloquent, but he supposed he could be excused.

“Wow,” she agreed softly.

“Are you all right with this?” His nerves were beginning to catch up with him, but Katrionel’s fingers playing with his hair were soothing most of them.

“Well, if you weren’t, I was probably going to-” she said with a shrug, and he took the opportunity to cut her off with another kiss.

* * *

The acceptance of his novel for publication brought only more work, Elliott realized with chagrin. He sent his latest manuscript off the very next day, following the instructions in the letter “if he wished to proceed with the publishing house”. Though Lewis had finally replaced the air conditioner in his sea-side cottage, Katrionel offered the use of her computer for ease of communications, prompting him to reactivate his old email and clear out the inbox in preparation for future correspondence. The emails flew thick and fast from there, going over work that needed to be done: professional edits, cover design, a marketing plan, and more. 

Katrionel was stalwart at his side through the entire process. Though he monopolized her computer near entirely, she never once complained, only provided tea and coffee whenever she could and listened as he talked through problems aloud. Winnie became a fixture in his lap, snoozing through the heat of the day as her mistress worked outside in the baking hot sun. He did his best to return the favor, brushing up on his limited cooking skills to prepare lunch and dinner for her whenever he stayed later than expected. Once or twice he fell asleep on her couch and woke up to a blanket draped over his form, lights dimmed and the sound of the wind against the windows lulling him back to sleep. 

One night he fell asleep on the couch, only to wake to a gentle shake of his shoulder. “Elliott,” came a soft whisper as he blinked bleary eyes. “Elliott, wake up.”

“Huh?” he asked eloquently, peering up at Katrionel. One hand ran through tangled red hair, tugging it away from his face; he needed a proper shower, he thought ruefully. “What is it?”

“There’s a meteor shower,” Katrionel murmured, voice barely contained. A hand entered his vision, fingers wiggling when he wasn’t quite fast enough for her. “Come see!”

He accepted it and was tugged to his feet, groaning theatrically for effect. “This had best be good-”

They stepped out onto the porch and Katrionel pointed up. “See for yourself.”

The sky was alive with tiny flares of light, shooting across the night sky at high speed. He stared up at it, aware his jaw was hanging open and uncaring.

Beside him, Katrionel gave a happy sigh. She stepped a little closer; he lifted his arm to draw her into his side. Together they stared up at the night sky, enjoying the show. 

“Beautiful,” he finally breathed.

“Are you glad I woke you up?”

“Very.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head, unable to tear his eyes away from the light show. “Thank you, dearest.”

They stood in silence for a while longer, both loath to break the spell. Finally Katrionel leaned into him a little. “Leah came by earlier,” she murmured. “You were on a call, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“How is she?” He felt a creeping flush of embarrassment. “I really should check in on her sometime soon…” 

“She’s well. She’s planning on having an art show tomorrow in the plaza and invited us to attend.”

He vaguely remembered Katrionel receiving that invitation in the mail earlier in the week — addressed to “Katrionel and Elliott”. How Leah knew precisely where to find him, and who else in town knew, was a problem for a later time. “It’s tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She nudged him gently, sending them both swaying. “It’s a wonder you’ve gotten this far as a bachelor, with no one to remind you what day it is.”

“I rather think I’ve done quite well on my own, thank you.”

“What about every time Leah or I had to drag you out of your cottage for an event on the beach?”

“Semantics.”

She buried her face in his shoulder to laugh, nearly missing a cluster of falling stars. 

So the next morning he woke up, extracted one of the nicer shirts he’d left in Katrionel’s dresser drawers (and that was also something to think about another day), and got dressed while Katrionel pulled herself together in the bathroom. “What color are you wearing?” she called through the bathroom door.

“Pale green,” he told her. “More moss than mint.”

“Leave it to the writer to know precisely what color something is.” Her tone was gently teasing instead of rude or mean. 

The door opened; he quickly turned away to give her privacy. “I’ll get the coffee started,” he called over one shoulder.

“Thank you!”

The sound of shuffling drawers followed him out into the kitchen, where the coffee pot stood ready to be started from the night before. Waffles made the day before took little time at all to reheat in the microwave, something to eat quickly on the walk over to the plaza.

“You’re wonderful,” her voice said from behind him. Arms wrapped around his stomach as a warm forehead rested against the back of his neck. “Thank you, dear.” 

“Of course.” He patted her hands with his free one. The arms released after a moment; Katrionel stepped around to his side, sneaking her mug of coffee away from him the moment he stopped pouring. A delicate sip, which led to a muttered curse as she winced. “Oh, Yoba, that’s hot.”

“It’s freshly brewed,” was what he meant to say, but now he could see her full form and found himself at a loss for words. She wore a breezy off-the-shoulder shirt in a delicate shade of lilac, perfect for the hot summer’s day outside. Her white skirt floated around her legs, such a light material he was momentarily envious of how cool she’d be while out in the baking sunlight. Her hair was freshly washed and shone near platinum even in the low morning light, caught up and back into a bun like a rose. Low heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she turned away to feed Winnie her own breakfast before they left. He settled on “you look stunning” instead.

“Thank you!” Her smile was blinding as she stood from putting Winnie’s food dish on the floor. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

“What a compliment,” he said, only a little dry. “I could never hope to match your own beauty.”

“Flatterer.” Her cheeks were turning bright red as she picked up her mug again and took yet another sip. “This isn’t even me at my best.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You never saw me at school dances, high school OR college.” She poured her coffee into a travel mug produced from the depths of the cabinet and picked up her waffle. “Shall we?”

“It doesn’t start for another half-hour,” Elliott pointed out. 

“I know. I just wanted to see how Leah was doing.” Katrionel shook her head. “Poor woman — if I were her, I’d be shaking in my boots.”

“Like the Fair last year?”

“Exactly so.”

Convinced, he pulled a white linen jacket on at the door as she grabbed a matching white shawl. They let Winnie out to herd the cows and set out towards the town plaza, breakfast in hand. Conversation topics remained light — the weather, Maru and Penny, plans for the very near future. “No use inviting trouble,” she said when he asked about her plans for the next year. “I’ve got to make it through this one first.”

Then they left the shade of the trees and stepped onto the stone pathway further into town. Katrionel shoved the last bite of her waffle into her mouth and dusted her hands off. Her hand knotted with his, lacing fingers together tightly. He couldn’t tell if it was the sudden sunshine or her hand in his that warmed his cheeks. 

They stepped into a plaza alive with movement. Townsfolk had already turned out to assist Leah in setting up her artwork for display. The woman of the hour was everywhere at once, admonishing Alex for manhandling an enormous wood carving, standing back to make sure an odd statue of three stacked egg-shaped creatures was straight, greeting other townsfolk as they arrived to support her.

“Leah!” Katrionel called once they were in earshot, waving her other hand, and consequently her travel mug, high over her head. He watched it warily, but the lid was on securely enough none slopped out. “Congratulations!”

Leah’s face lit up as she saw them approaching, breaking away in the middle of supervising another sculpture’s setup. “You came!” she exclaimed, wrapping them in a bone-crushing hug simultaneously. Just as soon as Elliott was beginning to grow concerned with his continued breathing, she let go again, spinning to face the plaza. “Isn’t this incredible?!”

“It really is,” Katrionel agreed. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Leah.”

She beamed again. “Pam said she’s bringing in a busload of cityfolk today, too — I may get some exposure to big-city types!” The thought made her bounce up and down like a bobber on the ocean.

“You deserve it,” Elliott told her with every bit of honesty he could muster. “This is incredible.”

“Hey, Leah, still need some help here!” Robin called from where she supported the glass-shard-like statue. 

Leah jolted. “Oh, no, I’ve got to run — thank you for coming — I’ll see you around!” Then she was gone again in a hurricane of motion. 

“I do believe I need another cup of coffee after she took all my energy for the day,” Elliott murmured in Katrionel’s ear.

She snorted, squeezing his hand gently. “Be nice, you’ll be in her shoes soon enough.”

“I rather doubt that.”

She hummed in a way that was definitely unconvinced, but then townsfolk were coming up to them to say hello and they were swept into the whirlwind of conversation once more. 

Leah’s art show did indeed draw in Zuzu City residents; the first flood arrived not long before noon, with a second rush two hours later. Leah was caught up in a whirlwind of people, and Elliott had never been so happy to watch a friend’s success from the outskirts.

Well… perhaps that was a lie. Katrionel winning the best grange display at last year’s Fair was first. This was a close second, though. 

The day had gone well as noon approached, to his knowledge. They’d made a few slow circuits of the plaza, investigating the various art pieces Leah had on display. As they withdrew to stand off to one side, under the shade of a nearby tree, fast movement in the midst of a slow-moving crowd caught his attention. 

“Here’s trouble,” Katrionel whispered at his side.

Elliott straightened at the sight of a brown-haired woman dressed in a well-tailored business suit approaching Leah. He didn’t like the cadence she approached with, the almost defiant jut of her chin and purposeful stride. Neither did Katrionel, judging by the way her grip on his arm tightened.

“Do you know who that is?” she whispered, half-turning to murmur in his ear and still keep an eye on the woman.

“Haven’t the foggiest, I’m afraid. No one good.”

Sure enough, Leah turned as the woman came to a stop behind her, a beaming smile still on her lips from her last conversation. “Can I help y-” she began, then abruptly cut off. Her smile vanished into thin air. “Kel? What are you doing here?”

At his side, Katrionel cursed. He recognized that name and felt much the same.

“I was coming to see how far you’d come,” Kel said with a brittle smile. “Or fallen, depending. Quite the intriguing pieces you have here.” She indicated the plaza with a lazy hand-wave. “I never figured you for a post-modernist.”

Leah recoiled slightly. “There’s a lot you never figured me for, obviously,” she retorted. “I’ll ask again: why are you here?”

Kel let out a sigh. “Come to see if you’d finally come to your senses.” She turned in a slow circle; Elliott felt Katrionel straighten and did the same, doing his best to appear dignified. He got the impression Kel was judging their surroundings as much as the art itself. She sniffed. “The offer is still open, if you so wish it.”

“What offer?” Elliott wondered softly, but Katrionel hushed him.

“To give up my art, except for what you deem respectable?” Leah scoffed. “No, thank you. I’m quite happy here.”

“Oh, but darling,” ignoring the soft growl of “don’t call me that”, “can’t you see you’re unappreciated here?” Kel gestured casually to the surrounding plaza, which had gone quiet at the confrontation. “Face it — none of them understand your art, let alone want a piece of it in their living room to have high-society friends gawk at.” She snorted. “Ah, forgive me — no one of high society lives here.”

Katrionel made a hissing noise at his side. “Back me,” she muttered.

“What-”

“Whatever I say, just go with it.” She tightened her grip on his arm, lifted her chin, and tugged him forwards, walking with a grace and poise he’d never seen her exhibit. He endeavored to keep up with her gait. As they got closer, she lifted her voice. “I’m terribly sorry — only I couldn’t help overhearing your little conversation?”

That was an accent he’d never heard out of her before — soft, sweet, drawling out the vowels. Kel turned to look at them, raising an eyebrow as she eyed them up and down. He hoped the two of them looked sufficiently presentable. “Can I help you?” she asked rudely.

“Well, not precisely.” Katrionel smiled at her, sweet as saccharine. “Only I wanted to correct you on one teensy little thing?” She extended her free hand — her left hand, as her right was still tucked within the crook of Elliott’s arm. “What’s your name?”

“Kelsey Matthis.” She shook it — a little awkwardly. “And you’d be…”

“Katrionel Huntington. Of the Westmoreland Huntingtons?” That smile never left her face as she returned her hand to rest on Elliott’s forearm, tilting her head slightly. “Surely you’ve heard of us.”

Evidently Kel had, judging by the way her face went still and stiff. “Yes,” she said. More politely: “Can I help you?”

“You can do me a favor and leave this talented young lady alone.” Katrionel had yet to lose the smile. If Elliott focused, he thought he could detect venom leaking into the corners of it. “Why, one of her art pieces is sitting in our front parlor back home and it’s the talk of Oceania Estates! Isn’t it, darling?” 

She patted his arm gently. He took the signal for what it was. “Indeed it is, dear.” He gave her an amused smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s famous in just a year or two. All our friends have been asking after it’s creator.”

Kel looked a little more pale, a little more out of place in the face of a united assault. It was all Elliott could do not to meet Leah’s gaze and burst into laughter. “Yes, ah — that’s very nice,” she said, shifting in place as if just noticing all the stares her outburst had gained her. “Leah — the offer is still open.”

“And won’t be accepted.” Leah lifted her chin, a spark back in her eyes. “Have a nice life, Kel.”

“Have yourself a nice quiet trip back to Zuzu,” Katrionel added, waving delicately at Kel. She and Elliott swept past the other woman without so much as a backward glance, turning their attention to Leah. “Now, Miss Leah, we’d love to commission a piece for the new gardens, they’re ever so lovely but just need a little extra… something…”

Elliott glanced over to see Kel slink back off towards the bus station before nudging Katrionel. “She’s gone,” he said, immediately breaking into a wide grin.

Leah threw her head back in peals of laughter, reaching out to drag Katrionel into a hug. “That was fantastic!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “And the way you came up with that off the top of your head — stunning! You’re a natural-born actress.”

Katrionel winked at her. “Call it a misspent youth, if you will.” She grinned. “I really am from the Westmoreland Huntingtons, just… removed a few links.”

“It was brilliant,” Leah said. She dragged both of them into another tight hug. Elliott fought to breathe once more as he patted her back. Quieter, she whispered, “You really helped me out there. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Katrionel murmured on the other side of her head. She drew away and smiled at Leah. “Now, I believe you still have adoring fans to attend to. Go on — you’ve got this.”

Leah took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. With one last grin at them, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the throng of admirers.

Katrionel watched her go with a soft, happy sigh, squeezing his arm gently. “Thanks for following my lead,” she whispered.

“Of course.” He smiled down at her, something she returned. “If I may ask, though… how’d you know to do that?”

She was quiet for a long few moments, watching and listening to the chattering crowd around them. Her hand, still on his arm, tightened. “I know what it’s like to face down an ex and wish someone, anyone, would step in.” Her voice had gone flat, unemotional. “In a way… I suppose you could call it wish fulfillment.”

Elliott drew her tighter to his side, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. Katrionel melted a little, resting her head on his shoulder. “I understand,” he whispered. “That was brave of you, and very kind.” 

She didn’t reply verbally, but he felt her sink into his side, head turning away from the crowd to hide in his shoulder. “I… wanted to stay, to support her,” she whispered after a few minutes, “but… I don’t think I can. I just…”

“We can leave now, if you wish.” His mind reached for a viable excuse. “Winnie must be getting lonely. And didn’t you say you needed to check on the strawberry plants?”

“Of course.” She straightened enough to press a kiss to his cheek, hugging his arm tighter in the process. “Mind making our excuses to Leah? I’ll wait here for you.”

“Of course,” he echoed, drawing away reluctantly. “I’ll be right back.”

He found Leah again soon enough, murmured their excuse to her and was dismissed with a grin and hand wave. “Thanks for coming!” she called as he retraced his steps through the crowd. 

Katrionel stood precisely where he’d left her. She smiled at him, a little shadowed, as he offered her his arm. 

“Shall we depart, dear heart?”

Her arm threaded through his like it’d never left, and she stepped to his side. “We shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many of the original readers appear to have found their way back to this story! I see your names and remember you. It's very nice to be back!
> 
> Next chapter next Monday, as per usual.


	3. Fall, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday surprise.

Elliott saw a change in Katrionel in the next few days; she grew a little somber, a bit more introspective. Her smiles lost some of their brilliance, but none of their warmth when they turned to him. He did his best to support her, offering hugs when she asked for them and silent support when she didn’t.

Even the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies failed to bring her fully around again, and she was quiet as they walked back towards the beach from the dock. A chilly fall wind had begun to blow in off the sea, causing both of them to shiver. Elliott squeezed her hand, their fingers laced together.

“Would you like to come over for a cup of tea?” he offered softly.

She gave him a small smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I probably should head home for the night. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.” Her shoulders sagged. “Well, maybe more like a busy week.”

“Are you still all right with me working at your home?”

She hesitated for a few moments, chewing on her lower lip as she thought. “I’m… not sure. It’s been wonderful having you over, but I think I need some time to focus on my farm.” 

He wondered if she was omitting something, but it wasn’t his place to ask. “I understand. Do you mind if I borrow your computer? I’ve spoken with Sebastian about getting one for myself, but it hasn’t come in yet.”

Surprise sparked in her eyes. “You did? I didn’t know. Ah… yeah, that should be fine.” She rubbed her forehead with a weary sigh. “Yoba, I don’t want to work on the farm tomorrow. It’ll be a mess.”

“You can do it.” He stopped her at the end of the pier, gently tugging her arm to make her face him. “I believe in you, dear heart.”

She turned her face up to him; they shared a kiss, one that lingered and lasted even as someone wolf-whistled. “Get a room!” someone who sounded suspiciously like Leah shouted. 

Katrionel let out an amused huff as she drew away. “See you tomorrow,” she said softly, waving back at him until she reached the treeline. Then she turned and vanished, back towards the town. 

His life took on an entirely new pattern in the following days; he woke, ate, and promptly immersed himself in the publication process. A literal barrage of emails flew between himself and the publishing company, finalizing details, finishing edits, and completing the cover matter. Four days later, exhausted but beyond pleased with his progress, Elliott sat back in his chair with a sigh and realized he hadn’t heard from Katrionel in three days.

His immediate knee-jerk reaction was worry: they hadn’t spent more than 24 hours without speaking to each other since their very first days being acquaintances. Common sense calmed him; she’d said she was busy with working at the farm, which was likely to be just as much of the reason as any other he could invent. The evening was young, he told himself. He needed to go out and socialize again. Perhaps she’d be at the Saloon, too busy to cook for herself and seeking a hot meal…

But it wasn’t to be. He stepped into the Saloon to find it buzzing with conversation, but with no Katrionel in sight. Leah was there, though, and whistled loud enough to quiet the entire tavern by a few degrees. He gave her a weak glare; she just laughed as she raised her wine glass high to him.

“How’ve you been?” she asked as he sat down, meal and cider in hand. “I haven’t seen either you or your girlfriend in days.”

“I’m doing well. The novel is coming along nicely-” He cut himself off before he could finish. He wanted to tell Katrionel the newest updates to his novel first. Instead he settled on, “Things are proceeding nicely, and I have high hopes for this season.”

“What a very noncommittal answer.” Leah took a deep pull of her wine. “How’s Kat doing?”

Elliott chose to sip his cider while he constructed a suitable answer. Apparently he took too long, as her eyebrows went up the longer he didn’t speak. “Well, I think,” he finally said. “She’s been a little preoccupied with working on the farm, so I wanted to give her some space.”

“I still need to thank her for saving me from Kel,” Leah muttered. “Hey, how does she feel about maple syrup?”

“She likes it,” he said. “A good choice, though fairy roses would perhaps be a better bet.”

“Thanks.” She toasted him, then threw the last of her wine back. “Anyways, did you hear the latest town gossip?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been rather sequestered in my cottage.” He sighed, swirling spaghetti on his fork. “Do I want to know?”

“It’s good gossip,” she reassured him. “Maru finally asked Penny out yesterday for her birthday, and she said yes!”

His eyebrows rose without his say-so at that. “I thought they were already dating?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “Though the Flower Dance made us all think it was just a matter of time. Can’t believe it took them a full season for Maru to say something.”

“It takes quite a lot of courage to make a relationship official, especially in this town.” Elliott made sure to obfuscate his expression as much as possible as he took a bite of garlic bread. 

Leah glared playfully at him. “Why do I feel like that’s a slight against me?”

“Only if you wish it to be.”

Their conversation traveled on from there, traversing a variety of topics. Elliott made sure to edge around his novel progress, but he hardly had to worry: Leah was bubbly with glee about how well her art show had gone and the sales and new exposure it’d brought her. She was full of new plans now, including a website she could sell her art through.

He was more than happy to sit back and let her babble on and on. 

Finally, as the night drew to a close and the hour grew late, Leah leaned back in her seat with a sigh. “All right, I better go home.” She gave a self-satisfied smirk. “I’ve never had more inspiration to work with, but even I need sleep sometimes!”

“Do you?” he asked mildly. “I was under the impression you never slept.”

“Says the vampire,” she retorted. “All right, g’night. See you around, Elliott.”

He waved her away and paid for his dinner at the counter, giving Gus his compliments and thanks for the wonderful food. He wasn’t the only one leaving; it was closer to closing time than he’d anticipated. The trickle of townsfolk stepped out into a chilly evening, one that had him drawing his jacket tighter about his frame.

It was only as he carefully picked his way along the sandy path leading to the beach that his mind reminded him of the day — the fourth of Fall. 

His birthday was the following day.

* * *

He anticipated little for his birthday; upon waking up to a quiet cabin, he spent the morning dawdling about, making himself a cup of his favorite tea and enjoying a reheated pastry while watching the sun glint on the sea out his window. His publisher, pleased with the progress they’d made, told him to take the day off. He planned to take full advantage of it. 

By mid-morning, he’d finished his breakfast and dressed for a chilly fall day. The coat Katrionel had repaired for him was showing even more wear after another summer spent in mothballs. He’d need a replacement soon, he told himself, and vowed to purchase one with his first royalty check, whatever that may be. That wouldn’t come in for another few weeks at best. He settled for the coat as-was.

Willy was out on the dock fishing, unusual for the old sailor but not highly so. He set his own hours, he’d told Elliott once, and in a tiny town with little call for the vast quantities of seafood he normally provided, he was able to spend much of his time as he pleased. They exchanged a brief wave before Elliott turned his attention north, for the walk into town.

The leaves were changing, he noticed as he walked along the shaded path. Summer’s drab greens were giving way to fall’s bright crimsons and golds. Squirrels chattered as they chased each other about, vying for acorns, he suspected; birds sang high over his head. A peaceful scene, to be sure; not for the first time, he wished he could draw with paints as well as words.

A problem for another day. The bridge into town appeared ahead of him, and he crossed it swiftly. The town was sleepy that morning, still waking up. The few townsfolk awake called greetings, but didn’t stop to chat. That suited him just fine. Less time chatting meant he’d reach his final destination all the sooner.

Sherman Farm’s sign needed yet another coat of paint, he noticed as he approached the farm boundary. The paint had begun chipping in places to reveal wood grain beneath. A problem to be brought up at a later date. He could hear a voice, humming in time with the steady thwack, thwack of an axe.

The farm had made the change from summer to fall with little trouble, it appeared. Sprinklers dotted the ground amidst the crops, some leaves still dripping with the remains of the day’s watering. Further in he could see her two cows grazing in a field of grass slowly going to hay. The tall stalks rustled in places, marking a trail of movement by a tiny body shorter than the grass itself. 

But he couldn’t see Katrionel herself, though the humming grew louder as he walked further into the farm. The remains of the old greenhouse drew him closer, but there was no sign of life in the ruins. The stairs down to the river caught his attention next, and he realized with a start the song was coming from the blossoming orchard further south.   
“Katrionel?” he called, and the song cut off abruptly. 

“Elliott?!” She sounded stunned for some reason. A head appeared from behind a tree, blonde hair mostly out of its ponytail. She blinked at him a few times, then called, “One second! Be right there!”

His stomach twisted at the greeting — not very enthusiastic, perhaps he’d made a mistake? — but then she reappeared, jogging towards him. Despite his misgivings, he opened his arms to her.

She slammed into him, hugging on tight. “Happy birthday, dear!” she cried, voice vibrant with life. “I missed you!”

He hugged back, burying his face in her hair. “I missed you too, dear heart.” The tension that had settled in his shoulders over the past few days slowly drained away, leaving him more relaxed than he’d been since the Dance in later summer. “Thank you for the birthday wishes.”

“Of course!” She drew away to beam up at him. “How’ve you been? C’mon, we can grab lunch at the house.”

“Are you certain? I don’t wish to disturb your work…”

But she was shaking her head, tugging him back towards the house with a sharp whistle. Winnie came running near instantly, bowling into his legs and nearly knocking them both into the river. Only Katrionel’s steady hands intervened to prevent a catastrophe. 

It was relatively clear she hadn’t prepared for his visit; she scrounged up sandwiches from the fridge, refusing his assistance when he offered to help. “You sit and stay sat,” she ordered, pointing to the table. “I want to hear all about the updates to your novel. How’ve things been? My computer been holding up all right?”

So he filled her in on the rapid progress of his book as she bustled about the kitchen. Soon enough, she handed him a sandwich and sat down herself, still listening intently. So intent on babbling it all out, he didn’t notice his mouth continued running until it said, “I wanted to give you space — I wasn’t sure, but you seemed like you needed some time after Leah’s art show.”

To his horror, Katrionel’s shoulder slumped. Immediately he backpedaled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No, no — hon, you’re fine.” She sighed, poked at her sandwich for a moment. “It brought up some bad memories, I won’t lie. I just…” A deep breath in. “I needed a day. Or a few. And…” She hesitated, but Elliott gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and she smiled back. “A few therapy sessions, with my old counselor back in the city. All of it helped, a lot.” 

“Good.” He reached out to take her hand and squeeze for a moment. “I’m glad. Very glad.” 

“So am I.” Her smile wavered, but held steady. “Amazing, how old memories still have a way of coming back to haunt you.”

He squeezed harder, but said nothing. Words felt… unnecessary. Silent support seemed more appropriate. 

“Well.” Katrionel straightened again, letting go after one final squeeze. “Anyways. Got any other plans for your birthday?”

“None, actually. Seeing you was the only thing I wanted to do.” He gave her his warmest smile, one she returned. 

“Well, we can grab dinner at the Saloon?” she suggested. “I was planning on going anyways, it’s been a while since I was last there. I think Gus mentioned a crab cake special last time I ran into him… something about Willy’s shop getting overrun with them.”

His stomach grumbled at the mere thought of crab cakes. She laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It sounds wonderful.” He smiled back. “I’ll pick you up around-”

“Nope!” Her cheerful grin grew wider. “I’ll be at the bridge at 4:45. Dress nicely?”

“Is this appropriate?” he asked, gesturing to his current getup.

“I’d say so.” They’d managed to finish lunch in the time they’d been talking. Katrionel collected their plates, pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek as she grabbed his. “I need to get some work done before then, so-”

He cut her off by rising and tugging her into a passionate kiss. She reciprocated, smiling against his lips. “I missed you too,” she whispered when they finally parted. “Now — run along. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

Come 4:45, Elliott was more than prepared for their dinner at the Saloon. Progress on his novel ground to a halt; he spent his time pacing about his cabin, absently tidying his desk, his nightstand, his kitchen. He jumped as his phone alarm went off, alerting him that it was finally time to head north into town.

He saw the head of blonde hair before he left the canopy of trees, leaves still changing from verdant green to brilliant color. “Elliott!” A hand raised high to greet him, one he reciprocated.

As he crossed the bridge, he could see her properly. She wore a deep blue sweater and jeans with low-heeled boots. Standing straight, she was nearly eye-to-eye with him. “Hello! Ready for dinner?” 

“Ever since you mentioned crab cakes.” He greeted her with a tight hug. She was warm against his chest; he relished the feeling, after missing her for so long. “Lead the way.”

They walked through town hand-in-hand, though it was unusually deserted for 5 in the afternoon. Elliott enjoyed the soft breeze off the river, a far cry from the harsh ocean wind he was used to. He breathed deep, savoring the clean, fresh air. 

They arrived at the Saloon, but Katrionel stepped back, patting her bag. “Shit- I think my phone is ringing. Go ahead and go in without me. I’ll be in in just a second.”

“All right.” As long as he’d known her, he didn’t think she’d ever gotten a phone call, but spam callers had been getting worse recently. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Haaaaaaaaappy birthday to you-” a small chorus of voices began. Beyond startled, Elliott took a step back and nearly fell down the Saloon stairs, but Katrionel was right there to catch him. “Happy birthday to you!”

Laughter behind him propelled him forwards into the Saloon proper, allowing him to get a better view of the group assembled. There weren’t too many people, but Katrionel must’ve asked some of his acquaintances to come as well. Leah and Willy were front and center, as some of the townsfolk he knew best; Maru and Penny stood side-by-side, holding hands. Other assorted villagers joined them, singing along as best they could. 

“Happy birthday dear Elliott,” everyone chorused, and Gus appeared from the back of the small crowd, bearing a plate of crab cakes. He laughed to see a single candle, sticking out of one cake. “Happy birthday to you!”

“Happy birthday, dear.” Katrionel leaned into his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Make a wish and blow out the candle!” Gus cried, thrusting the plate further into his face. A bit taken aback, he only had to think on his wish for a moment before blowing out the flame with a breath. Those assembled applauded, the dimmed lights were raised, and the party started.

Elliott found himself caught up in a whirlwind: he ate quickly as the excitement gathered around them, then was swept up once more. He whirled around the Saloon, warm birthday wishes given and small gifts thrust into his hands. Leah gave a handmade ceramic mug; Willy provided him with yet more fishing tackle. The trinkets piled up, and privately he despaired ever carrying them all home, but then Katrionel appeared with a bag and a wink. He gave her a thankful smile, only to be pulled back into conversation with Maru — who had evidently remembered his advice from the Flower Dance and was eager to repay him with a cider. Even though he wasn’t certain she was old enough to drink. It was a small factor that appeared to be overlooked in the spirit of celebration. He supposed since her mother was here, she would make her displeasure known if she didn’t want Maru drinking. Penny, as he rather expected, abstained, though she gave him a glowing smile.

On the evening went. Later, he wouldn’t remember too much, too caught up in the whirlwind of the unexpected, but enchanting surprise. He saw Katrionel at various points, but she never stayed long — always spun out and away from him with a wink, ushering him off to the next well-wisher. 

Elliott was, unfortunately, not a people person. The evening grew late, and his limited amount of social interaction he could take was growing smaller by the moment. Mid conversation with Robin about some concerns he had with his cabin’s waterproofing, he felt a hand on his arm.

“Hon, I’m about ready to call it a night.” Katrionel yawned wide, leaning heavily against him. Instinctively, he offered her his arm; she took it and stepped a bit closer. “I know this is your party, but would you mind walking me home?”

“Of course.” He drew her closer, giving an apologetic smile to Robin. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short-”

“No, no, go on.” She waved them away with a wink. He just caught the beginning of her sigh as they turned away. “Ah, young love…” 

“Goodnight, everyone! Thank you so much for your kindness!” he called, raising his free hand to bid them farewell. The townsfolk reciprocated, calling out final wishes of “goodbye” and “goodnight” and even, in Leah’s case, a wolf-whistle. He couldn’t quite refrain from rolling his eyes at her, which had her bursting into laughter. 

Then the door closed behind them, and Elliott near immediately let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, dearest. I fear I’m not quite in the mood to socialize anymore.”

“Understandable. Introvert problems.” Katrionel appeared much more awake than she had previously. “You can still walk me home. I have your present for you back at the house.”

Despite his old-fashioned state of mind, Elliott felt his eyebrows creeping up as they set out across the plaza. She must’ve caught a glimpse of it, as she elbowed him hard enough to make him stagger. “Nothing like that! … though most of the town probably thinks that now.” 

“You’re likely right.” Leah’s wolf whistle made far more sense as he added that context. “My apologies for whatever rumors or gossip you may hear over the next few days.”

“Half the town is under the impression we’ve already gone all the way.” Katrionel said it so flippantly it took him a moment to process it. “The other half are convinced your old-fashioned soul wouldn’t dare do anything without putting a ring on it first.” She drawled the last sentence with such an unusual accent he was caught off guard.

Of course, when her words finally did catch up with him, he immediately started sputtering. “We haven’t — I would never-”

She was cackling before he managed to get the fourth word out, nearly bent double. “Relax, dear,” she said when she’d recovered, wiping her eyes. “I hardly care. I’ve heard worse rumors about myself before. At least here they’re up-front enough to ask you if it’s true instead of just gossiping behind your back.”

Still feeling rather flushed, and not just from the alcoholic drinks he’d imbibed, Elliott cleared his throat. “Yes. Well.”

“Chin up. I think you’ll like this gift.” 

They fell silent in the fall night as they walked back to her house. A sole light glittered from one of her bedroom windows; she smiled upon seeing it. “Do me a favor and wait outside? Winnie is probably asleep and I’d rather not rile her up so late at night.”

“Of course.” It was early enough in the season he wouldn’t freeze if he stayed outside. He chose to sit on the stairs, staring out over the farm. Behind him, the front door opened and closed.

It was hardly a minute before Katrionel reappeared, carrying a large present wrapped in red paper with holly leaves and berries on it. “Excuse the Feast of the Winter Star paper,” she said dryly as she sat down and offered it to him. “It was all I had.”

“Not a problem.” He tried to keep the paper intact, but she rolled her eyes and ripped a corner off. He was less careful after that.

The paper fell away to reveal a large white shirt box. Curious, he shook it; something rattled inside. Weight shifted in his hands.

Wordless, Katrionel offered him a pocketknife. He cut the tape holding the lid to the bottom of the box and lifted it away. 

The breath left his lungs, stunned at the gift lying before him. He glanced up at Katrionel, disbelieving. She just gave a self-satisfied little smile. “I had Emily help me with the difficult bits, but otherwise it’s handmade, just for you.” 

Before him lay a wool coat, in a deep cranberry red. Similar to the coat he was currently wearing, yes, but nowhere near as threadbare and patched. He hardly dared touch it; it appeared perfect, tailor-quality, only better. 

“I…” he breathed, but his words trailed off into silent shock. 

“Go on, try it on!” She was nearly vibrating in her seat now, trying to keep herself in check. “I want to make sure I estimated your measurements correctly.”

Still speechless, Elliott stood and tugged his coat off. Even a brisk fall wind that blew just as he’d laid it aside wasn’t enough to phase him. It was warm, exceptionally so, much more than the other he’d just removed. Katrionel assisted with settling the coat around his shoulders and stepped around to the front, quickly brushing out invisible wrinkles and straightening the shoulders. 

Finally, she took a step back, resting her hands on her hips as she sized him up. He found his voice enough to ask, “Well? What do you think?”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I think you look exceedingly dashing, dear. And it fits well, I think, so that’s good news.”

“I rather wish I could see it…”

For an answer, she produced her phone from her pocket and pointed it at him. “We’ve got to get you a cell phone,” she mumbled as the phoen made clicking noises. Then — “here. Take a look.”

It looked… fantastic. A far sight better than his old coat, at least. “I love it,” he told her with feeling. 

“I’m glad.” Her smile shone like the sun, even in the dark night. “I thought that a published author ought to have a suitably authorial coat. No offense to your old one, but, well…”

He laughed softly. “None taken. You’re correct, anyways. It’s seen many a winter and survived even more moths.”

“I can tell.” She cut her eyes to the other coat, lying abandoned on the deck. “What do you want to do with it?”

He frowned. “I’m not quite sure. It’s served me well, but…”

“I can keep it and work on figuring out a good way to dispose of it,” she suggested. “Who knows, maybe it isn’t as badly off as you think it is?”

“I rather doubt that.” But he picked it up and offered it to her anyways. She accepted it, running her fingers over a tattered patch in the wool. “Do with it whatever you wish. I have a much nicer one now.”

Another gust of wind blew across the porch, causing Katrionel to shiver. With a start, he realized she no longer wore her own coat. “Goodness — you must be freezing!”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Her words were belied by the way she rubbed her arms to stay warm. “I’m going to have to go in anyways — I’m expecting a harvest tomorrow and it’s still early enough that the midday heat can be unbearable.”

“I understand.” He stepped closer to her, opening his arms. “I’ll bid you adieu, then. When can I see you again?”

She stepped into his arms gratefully, snaking her hands inside his coat to press against his back. They were frigid, sending shivers up his spine, but he held steady. “Well, I’m not exactly using the house right now, and you still have my computer, so…” 

She trailed off as his heart leapt. “Is that an invitation to overtake your living room once more?”

“Maybe.” She drew away to look up at him, just a few inches between them. “I’ve missed having you around the farm.”

“Then I shall be here tomorrow. With your computer, unharmed.” 

She smiled; unable to help himself, he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. For a few moments that stretched on into infinity, they stood there together, locked in a tight embrace.

Then she released, drew away reluctantly. “You should hurry home, before it gets too much later. I…” But she faltered and trailed off, then finished, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m glad you like your coat.”

“Of course.” He buttoned it up to the neck, admiring the way it fit so nicely to his form. “Goodnight, dearest.”

“Goodnight, birthday boy.” She winked at him as she stepped into the house, before the door slowly swung shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this! The final chapter is in the works, but we've got a ways to go before then.
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe, especially with the current climate. I figured the world needed a little more fluff in present times.


	4. Fall, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Publishing proceeds at a rapidly growing pace.

Bridges apparently fully mended and life approaching a new, better normal, Elliott returned to his old pattern of setting up shop in Katrionel’s living room during the day and returning to his cabin by the sea at night. Try as he might, though, it was becoming more difficult to think of the little cottage as his home. He tucked that little tidbit away in his mind to think about some other day — when work on his novel wasn’t progressing so swiftly. 

And progressing it was. His publisher had promised him the first printing of his novel would arrive in the next week and encouraged him to consider a book tour in early winter. He’d said he would think about it — and so he did, mulling it over and over and over in his mind.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Katrionel asked one night over dinner — a recipe for fish tacos he’d found in her cabinet, using some of the frozen fish she’d apparently stocked up on over the summer. 

He told her his conundrum, watched her eyebrows knit together as she thought it over. “What’s your concerns with it?”

“Public speaking has never been an exceptionally strong suit of mine,” he confessed. “And the thought of reading anything aloud to strangers, much less a whole chapter… it grates on my nerves.”

Katrionel mulled it over further, frowning deeper. “Great job on dinner, by the way — why don’t you have a small reading here?”

“Thank you — a what?”

“Just do a reading for the town,” she said. “You know everyone here. Would it be easier for you to do a reading here and get used to it before you go on a tour?”

He blinked at her once, then twice. “… yes,” he said finally. “I believe that would work. Katrionel, you are a genius, my dear—” already standing from the table to email his publisher.

“Ah ah, sit down and eat.” She pointed to his plate. “You’ll get sucked back into your email and I won’t get you out again for the rest of the night.”

He laughed, but didn’t disagree and finished his dinner before sending the idea off to his editor.

As it turned out, she loved the idea of a test reading. The first copies of his book were in the mail, she told him, and she wanted him to try a reading in his ‘hometown’ and let her know how it went. 

The first print arrived the next day, delivered by a huffing and puffing Lewis to his cottage by the sea — thankfully. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if Lewis had delivered it to Sherman Farm. “Special delivery!” the mayor called cheerfully, red in the face from exertion, but keeping up his beaming smile. “One package for a Mister Elliott Whitlock?”

Elliott already had the door open, gesturing him inside. “Put it on the table, please?” he asked, pointing to his cleared-off writing desk. It was the cleanest it’d been in years, most of his work now relegated to Katrionel’s living room. “Thank you very much, Lewis, you didn’t have to bring it with you, I could’ve picked it up-”

“Nonsense!” Lewis put the box down with a bang, wiping his forehead with one sleeve. “Not every day we have a published author in town, now, is it? Congratulations, m’boy — we knew you could do it.”

Elliott, who sincerely doubted that claim, only gave a benign smile. “Your faith is humbling. Thank you, Lewis. I believe I’ll open it in a few minutes, I have some work to do around the house.”

He kindly pretended he didn’t notice Lewis’ shoulders slump. Perhaps the older man wished to bear witness to the first time he laid eyes on his book. That honor was reserved for someone else. 

He pointedly didn’t look at the package as Lewis dawdled, inquiring after the weather and how his new air conditioner was holding up. Finally, the man seemed to resign himself to his fate and bid him farewell, heading out to deliver the rest of the mail. Elliott waited all of five minutes before snatching the package and heading out into town.

He took the southern route; news was likely already spreading that he’d received a package and the whole town knew he’d been published. The fewer people that stopped him, the better, and to that end he avoided the plaza as if it were a stage. Instead he scurried along the route to Marnie’s farm and Leah’s house on the river, greeting the few townsfolk he passed cordially, but distantly. 

The box was heavy and growing heavier as he finally approached Katrionel’s farmhouse. Even on the lower level of her farm, he could see her standing on her front porch, cradling a mug and staring out into the far distance — beyond even her farm. She looked up at his call, one arm waving high, which was a mistake as the box nearly slipped from his grasp and he had to hastily readjust his grip. 

The final set of stairs left him panting and breathless. He wheezed a little, gladly handing over the box to Katrionel as she approached. One hand still holding her mug, she accepted the package and balanced it on one arm. “Show off,” he said, trying to pretend like he wasn’t tired beyond belief from the trek.

“Hardly. What’s this?” She hefted the box even higher as if mocking him. 

“The first printing.”

Katrionel went stock-still, staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” At his nod, a slow, beaming grin spread across her face. “Oh my gosh, Elliott — what do they look like, what do you think?!”

“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I haven’t looked yet.”

The smile dropped off her face, eyes even wider, if that was possible. “Why not?”

“I wanted to share that moment with you.”

The only noise between the two of them was the sound of an autumn wind playing with the leaves on the trees. It tugged at a few loose strands of blonde hair, tugging them into Katrionel’s face. She made no move to brush them away; Elliott took it upon himself to do so for her.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Somehow he didn’t think she spoke of her hair.

“I wanted to,” he reassured her. “Now — shall we?”

That was all the encouragement she needed to turn on her heel and head towards the house. He hastened to keep up with her, swiftly taking the lead to open her front door before she simply walked through it instead. “Easy,” he said with a laugh, closing the door behind them and greeting Winnie as she leapt about at his feet.

“Here.” She put the package down on the table and dug through a kitchen drawer. The scissors she offered him were clearly well-loved, but freshly sharpened. “Your book — you do the honors.”

He took them and approached the package with all the care one might show a venomous snake. The tape cut easily, and he unfolded the flaps, laying bare a layer of packing paper. With one final steadying breath and an encouraging smile from Katrionel, he pulled the paper away.

Two hardback books looked back at him, side-by-side, paper covers glossy in the low morning light. Overlaid on an endless field of flowers, with two tiny figures in shadow in the far distance looking up at a starry sky, was “The Wandering Adventurer” in whirling black cursive. His gaze drifted down to the blocky print beneath that read, quiet simply, “Elliott Whitlock”. 

It was if he forgot how to breathe all at once. The air rushed from his lungs. His hand shook as he touched the jacket, felt the slick cover, then weighed the book as he picked it up. It had significant weight, something he hadn’t expected. 

A warm arm wrapped around his waist, a head resting with the greatest care against his shoulder. “You did it,” Katrionel whispered, as if she too feared she could shatter the stillness of the moment. “You did such a good job, Elliott. This is a monumental accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself. I certainly am.”

He gave a choked laugh, shocked to find tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

She picked up another one, squeezing his arm as she did so. “Look at that.” Her tone approached awe. “That’s a lot of copies. Hopefully they don’t expect you to keep them all?”

And just like that, Elliott had run out of excuses to NOT hold a reading.

Things moved… awfully quickly for his tastes. Katrionel helped him set up the reading, reached out to Gunther to arrange a date and time while he informed Lewis of the event. They put up fliers around town using a junky old printer Katrionel dug out of her closet; the ink bled in places, but the most pertinent information remained clearly visible. He hardly had time to breathe before it was the morning of the reading and he was seated at his desk, looking at a tiny mirror, trying to corral his hair into a more professional appearance. 

It was a losing battle.

So caught up in his fight, he didn’t hear the knocking until the door opened. “Elliott?” a sweet, familiar voice called.

“Come in, dearest.”

Footsteps on the floorboards approached swiftly. A moment later, Katrionel made a noise that was likely surprise. 

“Goodness — your hair-”

“No need,” he said grimly. “I’m well aware.”

Slender, callused fingers wrapped around his on the handle of his brush, squeezed gently. “Let me try.”

He was more than happy to let go and allow her to try her own hand at it. Of course, with nothing to occupy himself with, his nerves returned full-force and manifested in shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, as the brush worked through a tangle.

“What? Nothing.” 

His response was likely too fast to be convincing. As expected, she didn’t buy it. “It’s ok to be nervous.”

“I told you I greatly dislike public speaking,” he said.

“So those nerves are making a reappearance?”

“As you would say? Bingo.”

It made her laugh, which had been his goal. Even hearing it made him calm a little. “Well,” she said after a moment, brush still stroking through his hair, “I’ll be right there. If you get too nervous, just look at me and act like you’re reading it only to me.”

“Like last winter.”

“Exactly like last winter.” She offered him the brush; he took it without thinking. Assuming she was done, he tried to stand, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back into his seat. “Not done yet.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while; she was doing something with his hair, though he couldn’t tell what. Finally, she passed something over one of his shoulders. “Done.”

He reached up to touch the hair, but was stopped by her reflection in the mirror once more. Lips pressed against the crown of his head, feather-light, just once, then drew away. His eyes met sparkling blue-purple in the mirror. “I hope you like it.”

His hair, previously untameable, was now smooth and perfect. She’d braided it up in a single plait that easily draped over one shoulder.

“You look ready to take on the world.” Katrionel leaned over his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek. On a whim, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to stand beside him, looking up into her face.

“I’m lucky to have you by my side,” he murmured as she covered his hand at her waist with hers.

“I’m lucky too,” she whispered. 

They shared a lingering kiss, one interrupted by an alarm on Katrionel’s phone. She drew away with a soft sigh. “That’s the half-hour alarm for your reading. We should head over now.”

Once more, the nerves returned with a vengeance. He swallowed hard, but she stepped out of his grasp and offered her hand.

“Shall we?”

With a bracing breath, he took it.

* * *

Even at the bridge into town, Elliott could see a few straggling townsfolk making their way to the library. He swallowed hard at the sight. “Easy,” Katrionel whispered at his side, her hand squeezing his. They’d already deposited his box of books at the library the day before, which meant he had nothing to carry to occupy his mind. He was beginning to regret that decision.

But he found himself tugged along gently, Katrionel drawing him inexorably forward. He was helpless to resist her. In short order, they’d crossed the second bridge and approached the museum’s entrance. He could hear soft murmuring from inside and blanched. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Katrionel murmured at his side. “You know everyone here. They know you. They’re your friends. They won’t judge you, even if you do make a mistake.”

“Thank you, beloved.” He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin as a warrior going into battle. Katrionel, a little pink in the face, pulled the door open before he could reach it and ushered him in.

Gunther nodded to him, still stood at his post at the checkout counter. “It’s all set up,” he said by way of greeting with a nod to the right. “Good luck.”

“My thanks, Gunther.” Elliott nodded back to him, then turned to face the center of the library.

There were… people.

There were a LOT of people.

For a moment, he almost turned right back around and left again. It appeared at least half the town had turned out for his book reading. 

“Oh, Yoba.” The words slipped out without his explicit say-so.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Katrionel murmured at his side. She took his hand, laced their fingers together, squeezed hard enough to hurt. It also served to ground him again. “Chin up. We’re all friends here. I believe in you.”

Unable to speak, he simply nodded. That was the precise moment Leah noticed him.

“Hey, author!” 

She greeted him with a voice that filled the room, drowning out the soft chatter of conversation and drawing all attention towards him. In the blink of an eye he found himself the center of attention. 

“Hello, Leah,” he managed to say, giving an uneasy smile to the room at large. “I must say, I didn’t quite expect this level of interest.”

“It’s not every day we have a published author in residence!” Leah grinned at him. “Great job!”

Her congratulations echoed around the room, townsfolk congratulating him with applause and laughter. It was a party-like atmosphere, and it almost made him relax. 

Of course, that was when Marnie asked innocently, “Are you going to read from your book? I’m quite excited to hear what it’s about!” 

He had to hide a gulp, but Katrionel noticed as usual. “Of course!” she said — the little traitor, he thought without any real heat. “And you can buy the book too, he’s got a bunch of copies here.”

“So that was what was in the package?” Lewis chuckled in a grandfatherly manner, thumbs hooked through his suspenders. “You sly dog! Well, go ahead and get on with it, then. You’ve got us all on tenterhooks waiting to hear.”

So this was it. Katrionel nudged him towards a comfy chair at the head of the room, positioned in the opening between two shelves. A small table on one side held a copy of his book — his own copy, he realized. Katrionel must’ve dropped it off yesterday as well.

Feeling a bit like a man approaching the gallows, Elliott crossed the room. The quiet conversations that had resumed fell silent again; people found their seats. All eyes turned to him as he picked up the book and turned to the first page. One last look up: he met Katrionel’s eyes as she sat down close to the front.

“Ah… first of all, thank you all for coming.” He swallowed under the cover of agreement from the crowd, the creaking of chairs as they settled in to listen. “This is my debut novel, entitled ‘The Wandering Adventurer’. It’s a love story set in a fantasy world, about an adventurer who uncovers a mystery in a small village and falls in love with a mysterious young woman along the way.” He saw the glint in Leah’s eyes and hastily continued, “I’ll only be reading the first chapter today, but I have plenty of copies if you’d like to purchase one after the reading.”

“Hear, hear!” someone called. A ripple of laughter rang out over the assembled townsfolk. He felt his shoulders relax, just a bit.

“All right, then.” A deep, deep breath to steady his nerves. Elliott looked down at the book. “Chapter One. Lukkas had traveled the entire continent over, and others besides, but somehow the tiny town of Dorianov had escaped his notice…”

The first few sentences were good. He read on steadily, immersing himself in the story. It was almost easy to forget he was reading to a crowd.

Then someone sneezed, jerking his attention away from the book. As soon as his gaze fell on the crowd, noted all the eyes locked on him, his confidence fell away into nothingness. His bravado failed him.

With a thick swallow, he tried to force himself to continue. “A figure farther — further… down the lane caught his attention — a young woman, attending to… some business he couldn’t determine. Perhaps she may know… might know the way to his destination. As he approached, she turned and said- spoke…” Elliott took a shaky breath, fighting to keep his hands from quivering, fingers from tapping against the page. He could do this. He could-

“’You must be from far away, stranger. This town has never seen one of your kind before.’”

He looked up the moment the first word filled the air. He knew who it was immediately; there was only one other person in the world who knew his story as he did.

Katrionel smiled at him, rising from her seat at the front of the crowd and stepping forward a few paces to perch on the arm of his chair. She peered over his shoulder at the book, nudged him gently. With a start, he continued. “Lukkas blinked at the unexpected greeting. He’d thought himself stealthy, but perhaps not. ‘Fair lady,’ he greeted. ‘It seems you’ve pinned me at once, though I know nothing of you. Might I learn your name?’”

“’Inconsiderate, to ask a stranger for her name without first offering yours.’” Katrionel forwent the dialogue tag, instead proceeding to the next line. “’But since you have asked, I will answer. I am called Aliviya, and what is your name?’”

And just like that, it was no longer quite so terrifying to read aloud. Every time he began to grow nervous, had to pause to clear his throat, Katrionel’s presence and warmth at his side steadied him, cleared his head and allowed him to continue on. At times it was easy to forget the current setting and instead recall their time spent editing together over the winter. It was almost a shock when he turned another page and read the last line of the first chapter.

“Lukkas watched the strange woman depart, bearing her burden towards the marketplace proper, and wondered whether he might have cause to see her once more during his time in the village.” He closed the book with gentle finality and allowed himself a breath of relief.

Applause startled him, some of it directly in his ear. The assembled townsfolk were all clapping, each and every one, beaming smiles on most faces. He gave an extravagant seated bow, one Katrionel matched as Leah applauded directly at her. 

Then it was time to sign each copy of his book and send them out into the world with the attendees. He moved from the comfy chair to the table and folding chair set up against the children’s section. His books were stacked on top of the table; he couldn’t help but run his fingers over the top one, still unbelieving that it was here, it was done. 

Katrionel followed after him, taking up a position leaning against the shelves. She said nothing to him, only rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed a moment. He smiled up at her, hoping to convey without words his gratitude. He thought she got the gist of his message.  
Into another rush of socialization he went: it seemed most everyone who’d attended wanted to purchase a copy of his novel, and many had questions. 

“I loved your descriptions!” Abigail gushed, waiting for him to sign her copy with the pen Katrionel had gotten him for his last birthday. “It really felt like I was there with Lukkas.”

“I’m quite glad you felt so,” Elliott said with an easy smile. “There’s quite a few different settings, so I hope you feel the same about all of them.”

“Oooooh, intriguing! Oh, and before I forget — you guys sounded great together!” She took the book, called a quick “thanks!” over one shoulder, and bounced back to stand with Sebastian and Sam — each of whom had their own books tucked under their arms.

“I’m inclined to agree with her,” Emily said as she stepped up next, nodding after Abigail. “Can I get that in an audiobook? Just the two of you reading Lukkas’ and Aliviya’s parts?”

“Maybe if the book does well,” Katrionel said behind him. He glanced over just in time to see her wink at Emily. “Which you’d be helping with by purchasing a copy.”

“Oooh, master saleswoman here!” But she did pay up and wait for him to sign the copy she’d purchased.

By the time the last person had purchased their copy (Maru, technically, though Penny eyed the book she held with interest), it was dark out and Gunther had turned the lights out in the museum portion of the building. Katrionel helped him break down the table and pack the remaining three books into the box they’d come from.

Before they left, though, he reached out an arm to stop her. “Yes?” she asked, looking up at him as she shifted the box to one arm.

Wordless, he took the box from her grasp, placed it on the table, and pulled her into a burning kiss. She made a brief startled noise, one that melted into a hum of pleasure as he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, tugging him flush against her.

Even Gunther’s impatient throat-clearing behind them did nothing to degrade his good mood. Katrionel drew away just long enough to call, “Sorry, Gunther,” before he tugged her back in for another one. 

That time, he broke away to murmur against her lips, “You, my dearest, were magnificent.”

“So you don’t mind me stealing your thunder?” His eyes were still closed, so he couldn’t see her face, but he could feel the smile in her tone and the warmth radiating from her lips. 

“Absolutely not,” he whispered back. She drew away a little more, but he dragged his fingers along her waist to rest on her hip, keeping her somewhat close. Perhaps a bit too forward, especially for him, but he found he didn’t care much. “You made it that much easier for me to speak. I owe you more than you know.”

One of her hands trailed along his neck and up his jaw to cradle his cheek. He leaned into the gentle touch as her other hand played with the hair at the back of his neck. “I couldn’t just leave you hanging,” she said, just for the two of them. “It didn’t feel right.”

“I understand this is very exciting, but it’s past closing time,” Gunther called, and just like that, the moment shattered. 

Katrionel sighed; he risked one last kiss before drawing away completely. His hand lingered at her waist as she turned and picked up the box of books again. “Sorry again. We’ll get our of your hair,” she called. “Thank you again, Gunther!”

“Of course.” Gunther tipped his hat to them as they walked to the exit. “Be safe out there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. It's... been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> So the gist of it is COVID killed any and all creativity I had. Watching the world burn has been emotionally, mentally, and in some aspects physically draining. I haven't written a word in months, to be honest. This is all pre-written.
> 
> But this story is nearly done, and I hope to finish it before the year is out (watch how well that'll work). I want to finish this story, but it was just discouraging, if I'm being honest - it felt like I had to force the words to come and they didn't feel right. So I left it, and I hope that's helped in the long run.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and hang in there. As my personal life motto says: this, too, shall pass.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, would you look at that. I'm back!
> 
> Originally, this was just going to be a few little snippets from Katrionel and Elliott's relationship, covering years. Then I started thinking and coming up with more and more ideas to use. Before I knew it, I had enough for a full-blown sequel.
> 
> Expect updates on Mondays instead of Wednesdays this time. I sincerely hope you enjoy, and I'll see you next week!


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